


Better

by Shadows_Den



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Second Person, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 21:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8118178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadows_Den/pseuds/Shadows_Den
Summary: You were fifteen.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Everyone!  
> I was listening to "The Haunting, by Set it Off" and my brain tuned into a one-shot before I could object. It's not much and it can be confusing, but if you are bored give it a go!

You were Fifteen.  
You knelt on the ground, feeling her going limp. Her tremors and shocks of pain surrendering to the inevitable darkness.

You were Fifteen, and you felt nothing but cold. Not because of the weather, the late November chill never did anything to you, but you felt cold nonetheless. Inside right behind your sternum.

You were Fifteen, in the bathroom, bracing your arms against the sink, blood running down the porcelain from your hand from the jagged pieces of glass still protruding from your knuckles.  
Laura came in, when the blood was dry and had to carefully cut the glass from where your skin had healed around it. She never said aword about the broken mirror, the tear tracks running down to your chin or your eyes, burning a bright cold blue. 

You buried Paige, When you were Fifteen

> _"Come on in, boy," said the skeletons sitting by her closet door_  
>  _Dirty secrets, empty memories, and broken hearts across the floor_  
>  _I was knocked out, heels over head_  
>  _So you dragged me by my feet to a ghost town, where you buried me_  
>  _No wonder no one heard my screams_

You were still fifteen when She found you, a the beginning of the winter term, sitting in a corner of the cafeteria with the red plastic tray in front of you. She drew you in, honeyed voice, comforting and wise. "It will pass. Everything does."

Your mother said nothing. You were smiling again, eating better and going down to the gym four times a week. Late at night where the only people who went there were too off in their own thought to note the excessive amount of weigh on your bar. 

You _were_ kind of scrawny.

One day In your locker, you found a letter. The envelope was a deep blood red, the words wicked and it was signed by a pair of lips you knew pretty well by that point.

You gave yourself to Her that night.

> _Love's so alive, but it died in its sleep_  
>  _And now that it's dead, I live in your head and I will haunt your fucking dreams_
> 
> _No one will love you like I did, will treat you like I did_  
>  _So go on, wear that scarlet letter_  
>  _No one will love you like I did, will touch you like I did_  
>  _So good luck finding something better_

She didn't leave anymore letters for you to find in your locker. She had your phone number now, it was way more simple to shoot a text. Besides, someone could see Her, hanging around his locker.

It was safer. They wouldn't have understood.

You didn't take Her to Homecoming in September. You went with Laura, and then left in less than thirty minutes. She was idling in the parking lot for you.

She wanted a pause by the end of October. Her brother was a killjoy, she said. Too suspicious, and watching her too closely. You had to stop seeing each other. For a little while. Two weeks at most.

She would have come back to you with a phenomenal birthday present.

You couldn't wait.

On the twentyfifth there was a Halloween feast. Paper pumpkins, bats, spiders and skeletons were all over the the basketball court.

You laughed with Laura at each and every 'werewolf' costume. Neither of you bothered with one, nobody noticed the fangs were not fake.

Laura felt it a split second before you did, tensing up, going silent and rigind in the middle of a joke. And then the pain hit.

You felt a cold knife stab you in the stomach and you rant with your sister to Uncle James' car. The 2001 Camaro you drooled on for the last three years.

> _Run away, boy, if you couldn't tell, baby's got a thirst for blood_  
>  _A subtle system, wicked melodies, craving bullets from her gun_  
>  _So entranced they, follow every word, little spirals in their eyes_  
>  _Catch a lover, turn an enemy just to watch them burn alive_

The house was on fire. The fire and sheriff department were already there, but they couldn't do anything. it was just too dangerous for them.

You threw yourself forward anyway. You could heal, unlike them. An arm caught you across the chest, and it stopped you. For a split second you thought the man with blue eyes and a worried face was a werewolf, but Laura was free and she couldn't go any further either.

Between crying your throat hoarse and letting the man, a police office herd you back to his car ("Its not safe here, son. Come with me"), your eyes fell on a red colored envelope on the ground.

> _No one will love you like I did, will treat you like I did_  
>  _So go on, wear that scarlet letter_  
>  _No one will love you like I did, will touch you like I did_  
>  _So good luck finding something better_
> 
> _Someday you may find that picture perfect guy_  
>  _And I'll chase my words with poison_  
>  _Until that day arrives, and swine take to the sky,_  
>  _Fill your void with open thighs so_ ,

You were Sixteen when you buried your whole family. Except Laura. Mind numb, half-aware of what was happening around you, and that it was your fault. Again.

You were Sixteen when your sister, your Alpha, now buckled you in the front sit of Uncle James' car and drove away for Beacon Hills.

> _No one will love you like I did, will treat you like I did_  
>  _So go on, wear that scarlet letter_  
>  _No one will love you like I did, will touch you like I did_  
>  _So good luck finding something better_

You were twenty-one when Laura died, and a bunch of melodramatic teenagers bulldozed their way in what was left of your life.

You were Twenty-two when she died, In the same spot she condemned your family. Her voice still taunted you at night.

> _No one will love you like I did, will treat you like I did_  
>  _So go on, wear that scarlet letter_  
>  _No one will love you like I did, will fuck you like I did_  
>  _So good luck finding something better_

You were twenty-two when you did. You proved her wrong. You were twenty two when you could sleep at night, because even if She came to haunt you you could just ignore Her. She was wrong.

It wasn't your fault. He said, amber eyes wide, hands braced on your shoulders while you were kneeling in an empty warehouse, save for you two and a Jeep that had smashed into the wall not thirty minutes before. You believed him.

You were Twenty-three and then Twenty-four, five, six, Thirty and Fourty, when yo woke up in the morning with a warm body on top of you, looking at you shyly with those gorgeous almost golden irises and thought: I did it.

You found someone better


End file.
